


Tell Me What's on Your Mind

by Mara64



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Consensual Sex, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Violence, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 23:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12242811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mara64/pseuds/Mara64
Summary: Bruce stumbles upon a Kryptonian device after the latest Justice League battle and convinces Clark to take it back to Earth. Clark has no idea what use he would have with a Kryptonian Birthing Matrix, until a single impossible thought proves difficult to get out of his head.





	Tell Me What's on Your Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy this! This is my first fiction ever, not only in this fandom, but on AO3 in general. I don't know if this has been done before, but since I haven't stumbled upon any, I decided to write my own! Let me know what you think, and what suggestions you have to improve my writing.  
> No beta reader, all mistakes are my own.

The seemingly endless fight with an alien relic hoarder droned on. The creature was desperate to protect the entrance to his vault after his intricate security system had been rendered useless by the Batman. Clark expressed his worry about engaging in a fight head on, having already experienced fighting a species collector, knowing the extent they would go to protect their hoard. But wonder woman rushed in, a sacred artifact had been stolen from the amazons and in the wrong hands had the capacity to release a great evil.

The fight was long, and many were wounded in bringing the collector to justice. Superman was merely happy that everyone hadn’t sustained wounds that wouldn’t heal in time, and called for everyone to regroup in the entrance through the comm.

“Need a hand?” Superman extended his arm with a smile to Bruce who was making his way out of the rubble. Clark let out a playful huff, knowing the Bat would scoff and ignore the gesture. But the other man surprisingly reached up and used Superman’s offered hand and an anchor to hoist himself up.

“Thanks.” Batman said curtly and continued walking forward with a slight limp, a light injury obtained from the fight with the collector’s guards. Superman was left with his mouth agape, the you’re welcome trapped in this throat.

Bruce continued walking at a brisk pace, superman hovering for a moment, then went ahead, just slightly enough to stay out of Bruce’s space but close enough to notice any changes in Batman’s walk. It was then when a single device had caught Bruce’s attention. He had been learning the kryptonian language during his off hours with Clark and had noticed the familiar lettering as the rest of the league members began regrouping in the central hall of the collector’s base.

“Superman.” Bruce had called out to him as he casually flew by the items in the vault. He had stopped mid-flight, suddenly putting all his attention on the Bat.

“What is it Batman?” He slowly drifted over, not paying any attention to the device Bruce had been dusting off. He was searching his body for any reason as to why the batman would call him over.

“Take a look at this,” Bruce motioned to the kryptonian dialect imprinted on the metal shell of the containment device. “I can’t understand all the words but, it’s definitely kryptonian.” Bruce had looked up to notice that Clark was no longer listening to him, rather his eyes were secured to the machine in question.

“It’s…” Clark floated towards the ground and walked over to the device, his words fading into silence as he began getting lost in his thoughts. Once he felt the glare of the man beside him, Clark quickly cleared his throat and picked up where he had left off. “It’s similar to the ship I landed in… except, the purpose of this machine is not for transportation.”

“Hmm.” Bruce looked it over again “We have enough room on the ship for you to take it. We can secure it in the lower deck with the generators.”

“Batman, it’s,” His gaze traced over the device somberly, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “I have no use for this.”

“Isn’t it a piece of your world? Why not take it?” Bruce’s voice hinted at annoyance

“The wording on the side says it’s a kryptonian birthing matrix.” Superman lightly touched the surface with his fingers, scared to dent it with his current strength. “As much as I would love to keep this…” He thought for a moment and a chuckle escaped between his lips “I honestly wouldn’t know where to put it.”

“I have more than enough room in my mansion. Take it.” With that, Batman began making his way out of the vault, leaving Superman looking between the retreating figure and the machine loosely bolted to the ground. He hesitated, tried to call out for Bruce, realized he no longer had a say in the matter and gingerly lifted the device effortlessly. Several of the justice league members offered their critical looks, but had been briefed by the Bat that a kryptonian relic would be making its way to Earth. Superman realized by their questions during the trip that Batman made no mention on the nature of the device, perhaps out of the embarrassment of having to keep the machine in his house, or perhaps out of his very apathetic nature.

So Clark, not wanting to displease the other, lied that he had no idea as what it was.

:::

A deep groan echoed in the cave, followed by a loud thump. “I give up.” Clark sighed as he sat on the surface of the rocky floor, leaning his back on the machine.

Bruce continued to type frantically, pulling up several programs at once and attending to his own business. Clark narrowed his eyes at him and let out another sigh, louder this time to make sure Batman could hear it.

“Keep sighing like that and you’ll melt the damn machine with your hot breath.” Bruce quipped, continuing at whatever task he had at hand.

“You rather I freeze this room?” Clark countered, feeling a smile inch onto his face.

“I rather you fix that thing and leave me be.” Bruce’s typing slowed, just enough to add “Your father was a scientist, wasn’t he? I’m sure you have half the brain to figure that out.”

Clark raised himself up swiftly and bolted towards the other man. “You think you’re so smart Bruce?” He let the anger seep from his voice “You go ahead and fix it.”

His cowl was down, but the effects of the bat-glare were prominent enough with just his expression. He had looked up at Clark and it took the alien more vigor than he had thought to not look away from those jarring blue eyes. ‘Whether that machine works is not my concern.”

“As I thought.” Superman huffed as he lifted himself a few inches off the ground “You can admit when a task is too difficult even for you. I won’t judge you there.” Superman sneered as he began to make his way out of the cave, leaving Bruce to simply stare as he flew away.

“Three days.” Bruce announced. Superman leisurely stopped and turned around to face Bruce.

“Come on B, you know you—”

“Three. Days.” Bruce glowered, teeth gritted and ice-cold eyes looking right through Clark. “Three days and I’ll wipe that damn smirk off your face.”

:::

Clark Kent couldn’t lie to himself. He tried not to think about it, tried not to let the thought of Bruce triumphantly prove his technological superiority even in machines stemming from more advanced civilizations. But Clark knew that if anyone could get the matrix to work, it was Batman. And he honestly couldn’t wait to see it working.

“You look excited” Lois inquired, taking a seat on Clark’s desk.

“Is it that obvious?” He chuckled, no longer paying attention to the report he needed to turn in by the 5:00 pm deadline.

“I don’t know…” She smiled, biting the tip of her pen “You’re making careless mistakes, staring off into space, and grinning to yourself. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that’s one heck of a report you’re writing”

Clark observed her affectionately, noticing her subtle mannerisms as she tried to pick apart his secrets piece by piece. “I guess you can say I am then.” He reached over and began to lazily trace circles over her hand “I found a remnant from my world, it’s got me pretty happy.”

“Clark,” She lowered her voice to barely a whisper and inched closer to his face “That’s wonderful!”

“Thank you.” He tightened his laced his fingers with hers, tightening their hold, and holding it there for a moment.

“So I’m guessing I can’t invite you out to coffee today then?” She said with a somber smile

“Not today but, I’d like to take a rain check.” He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a chaste kiss on her skin. She let out a laugh and headed back to whatever project she was working on.

Clark watched her as she left, a sinking feeling in his gut as he wondered if she was truly happy. He was being unfair to her, he would think sometimes, staying with her for no other reason than to keep her happy. Of course, he would want to keep her happy. He loved her after all and would try to continue being a good partner. Treat her well, attend to her needs. Make it seem like the spark their relationship had at the beginning was still there. He would think of her and only her.

And he would surely not think of the man tirelessly working through the long hours of the night to repair his newfound treasure.

:::

“Go ahead Clark.” Bruce said with a satisfied smile plastered on his face. He was sitting back in his chair, legs crossed one over the other and his hands folded neatly on his knees. His cowl pulled down, perfect hair brushed back and a look that could pierce through any unsuspecting person. Clark wondered if Bruce had practiced the irritably elegant pose for the sole purpose of getting him aggravated.

Nevertheless, Clark made his way towards the matrix, unable to come up with a snide comment to make at the Bat watching him intently. As he got closer, he noticed his movement had slowed and he reached out to the machine once more. His palm touched the glass, and unlike any of the other times, the matrix came alive with a soft whirl and a gentle blue light.

“My work here is done.” Bruce had said while walking towards the Batmobile, pulling on his gauntlets and ensuring their proper fit. He stopped before Clark slightly, and placed a solid hand on his shoulder “Next time,” Clark could feel the heat of his palm through the layers of Kevlar and cloth. “don’t tell me what I can and cannot do.” He growled deeply and quietly and left Clark in the darkness of the cave with nothing but a hard lump in his throat and the gentle humming of the birthing matrix.

He was so, so screwed.

:::

Clark made every possible excuse to study the machine. Now that it was fixed, Bruce had located the device in its very own room, and Clark couldn’t rationalize being jealous of an inanimate object occupying an area nearly as big as his entire apartment.

After some weeks, the barren room was slowly filling up with household items. It started with a small table, most likely to help him write down notes and such as he studied the machine. Then some chairs appeared, followed by a fairly large couch and freshly cleaned satin curtains to border the windows. He wondered if Alfred noticed he was staying longer nights at the Wayne estate, or perhaps Bruce…

Clark stopped the thought in its tracks and proceeded to pick out one of the shirts shits filling up the closet. He slightly stopped to wonder how they got there, or why they were his size, but continued to dry himself off from the nice, warm shower he just took and changed into the garment.

It smelled like Bruce’s home.

“Shit.” He muttered as he pulled the shirt back down, catching himself inhaling the scent that lingered on the cloth. It was merely Alfred seeing his needs were met, and Clark made a mental note to thank the hardworking butler for making him feel so at home.

He turned to the machine he had nearly figured out.

Wondered what it would be like to have a child—his child—growing in the matrix.

:::

Clark had always loved children. For as long as he could remember, he wanted a child. He admired their endless wonder, their virtue and their utter awe for the world. He had sworn to protect all of the children in the world from any type of harm, so that they can live and let live, and simply love the world around them.

But he realized all too soon that he couldn’t save everyone.

He clutched the small boy in his arms, holding the crying face into his chest to protect as much of his innocence as he could. He wanted to be his shelter, if even for a while longer.

“Mama!” The boy wailed into his chest, struggling to get to his mother as the flames danced around them. “Mama! Mama! Mama!”

“Shhh. It’s going to be okay.” Superman said in his softest voice “I’m here for you. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Batman watched from a distance as the police shoved the boy’s father into the back of the armored car. He made his way as soon as he heard Clark’s call, but all he had arrived to was a ravaged scene, and a defeated man. A seething rage filled him as he pieced everything happening before him. It was too much, and it reminded him of memories he would rather forget. Superman glanced at him for a second, his face tired, helpless. He swore to Superman the father of the boy would be dealt with harshly and justice would be served. Hard. Bruce was able to contact the boys extended family, utterly appalled by his father’s actions and desperate to come pick up the child. He would need psychological help, Bruce thought. After this, the child would need to know he was loved and that he was still capable of loving again… so he wouldn’t turn out like him. A cold, unloved, unloving man. So, he sought the child the best therapist there was, and completely covered the cost. It was all he could do at this point.

Superman walked over to him after leaving the child with his grandparents. Batman recognized the look on his face. It was that of a lost man. A beaten man. Bruce knew no battle had ever prepared Clark to deal with this. No opponent could inflict a pain stronger than this feeling of defeat.

“Come on.” Bruce beckoned, leading Clark towards the Batmobile. “Nights like these should not be spent alone.”

:::

Superman was given permission to go to where he felt most comfortable, and both men had soon found their way to the room with the matrix, the gentle hum of the device likely calming the kryptonian.

“What type of …” Clark was heaving, his face buried in his hands but words laced with a barely controlled wrath. “Who would KILL their own child?!” His question wasn’t directed at batman, but with nobody else in the room, Bruce decided to offer the man some solace.

“Clark, you know more than anyone humanity an overwhelming capacity for evil.” Bruce sat next to him on the floor of the bedroom, proceeding to lean against the bedframe and rest his head on the mattress. He waited a moment to gauge the man’s reaction to his presence and continued speaking “So many are lost in this world… by the very people who gave them their lives.”

Clark tried to speak, but the words got caught in his throat. Bruce proceeded, “Clark. This boy will live to see another day.” Batman reached up to touch Clark’s shoulder, but decided against doing any action to agitate the man further “His mother would have been eternally grateful for you saving her baby.”

“She… was…” His breathing evened slightly after a long sigh, and he looked over at Bruce. “Those were the last words she managed to say to me.” His eyes were devoid of emotion, and his exhaustion was making its way into his core. Bruce knew the feeling. It was the part of putting on the suit that one would never get used to, and made you question why you would even try, when you couldn’t even save everyone.

Clark didn’t really say anymore. The deafening silence seeded with guilt,

and uselessness,

and hurt,

and blame.

Clark wouldn’t be able to forget this, and Bruce was unsure of anyway to offer his support. So he simply stayed there next to Clark, and offered his friend his complete attention, no joking, no snide comments, just Bruce Wayne in all he was.

“Clark, I’m here for you.”  Bruce echoed the words Superman would normally say to the shivering man beside him. Sometimes, Bruce thought, sometimes it was good to not only be the savior. Sometimes you needed to let yourself be saved. It was a hypocritical statement, and one he would never admit out loud even to Clark. Even Batman, the strong, unwavering symbol of fear, would find himself leaning on Superman from time to time. Given that he never asked for the other’s help, and would often engage in a futile attempt to get Superman to leave him to alone, he still appreciated the man’s stubbornness to stay. A shift in Clark beside him broke him away from his thoughts as two large arms made their way over to embrace him. He soon found himself in the kryptonian’s shoulder, a firm hand holding the back of his head, and another wrapping its way around his waist.

“Please. Don’t leave…” Clark breathed as he began to bury his face into Bruce’s neck.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Bruce stated, bringing his own hands to wrap around Clark’s back, pressing him tighter against himself. The man needed him, and he would allow the slight change in the bat’s character, for now.

“Bruce…” he lifted his head slightly and came eye level with blue eyes a shade lighter than his own. “Help me…” Clark leaned in agonizingly slow, his lips barely touching Bruce’s “I need you.” He let out in no more than a whisper.

Bruce knew his reaction. He was acting like a man desperate to be needed, wanted. He furrowed his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes at Clark’s approaching blue eyes.

Bruce could not fulfill his need, and decided to push back slightly despite wanting him with equal if not more yearning. This was not the time, and Clark was not in the proper state of mind.

Was Clark not thinking of Lois?

Superman pushed forward again, a small whine from his lips sweeping against Bruce’s skin, making him question just how much willpower he still had left.

“Please Bruce.” Superman pulled his cape off in a swift motion and brought a hand to Bruce’s neck, pulling him down on top of him. “I need you…” Bruce let the other body guide his own. Legs and arms wrapping around him, pushing the dark night to his will in a single, fluid motion.

“Clark. No. We can’t do this.” Bruce steadied himself on the floor of the room. Clark’s room. Bruce had slowly terraformed the area into something of the kryptonian’s liking. Extensively gathering all his knowledge of the man’s likes and dislikes, all in order to create a room for him to work calmly and peacefully.

“It’s okay.” Clark whispered, pulling at the seams of the bat suit, nipping at Bruce’s ear and dissolving what little restraint the Bat had left. “Take me. Right here.”

:::

Bruce sat on the edge of Clark’s bed, elbows resting on his knees and a heavy head in his hands, wondering what had led them to go that far. Why he allowed it.

Clark’s breathing was steady, the kryptonian had already fallen into a deep sleep and curled himself tightly into the soft blanket. Bruce’s gaze fixed on the small satisfied smile on Clark’s expression. He must have felt the cold, Bruce thought, from the lukewarm towel he had used to clean the outcome of their momentary passion. Perhaps he should have let the water heat up more.

The thought was quickly replaced with a horrible guilt, and he decided to make his way out of the room. He would face the repercussions of his actions in to morning with a clearer mind. He took one quick glance at the kryptonian birthing matrix, a soft humming indicating it was on, but proceeded into his room to get what little sleep his consciousness would allow.

:::

Clark had disappeared by the morning, leaving Bruce to shoulder all the shame and unanswered questions on his own. There was no sign of the alien for days and Bruce was beginning to get impatient. Superman wouldn’t stick around the watchtower after missions as he usually did. And there was no getting through his cell once he decided to play human. So, Bruce made up his mind to speak to Clark directly, corner him into sorting things out and not allow him to avoid the subject longer. Then he decided, he would go to Lois. She was going to be hurt by the truth, unless Clark had managed to tell her first. Which seemed unlikely to Bruce for some reason. But she needed to know regardless, and Bruce was willing to face whatever punishment or scorn she would have for him.

He made his way through the front entrance of the Daily Planet and was immediately greeted by the friendly receptionist. She led him towards the elevators, giving him careful instructions on how to reach his destination. As well as her number.

Bruce reached Clark’s floor in no time at all and threw the slip of paper away in the first trash can he saw. When he made his entrance through the double doors, all typing, ruffling of paper and typical office banter seemingly stopped at once. He barely noticed however, and narrowed his focus in on the man staring right back at him, eyes full of confusion and shock. It took Bruce a few short strokes to make his way to Clark’s desk

“That interview you asked me for.” Bruce’s voice was superficially playful, flirtatious even “I decided I’ll do it. You know where to find me.” Clark visibly swallowed, Bruce’s eyes following the movement of his Adam’s apple, painfully reminiscent of the night they shared to—

His eyes shot back up at Clark Say something “I appreciate it very much Mr. Wayne.” Clark chirped up taking the hint.

“Then its settled,” Bruce extended a hand and Clark took it without thought “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Bruce squeezed his hand tightly, enforcing his expectation and Clark gave a small, curt press in confirmation. Bruce turned on his heel to make his way back out of the building, and somehow managed to make direct eye contact with Lois Lane.

Her eyes expressed pain. It was as if she already knew.

“Mrs. Lane.” He gave a short nod; his charismatic coyness was stripped from his voice.

“Mr. Wayne, a pleasure.” She reciprocated the gesture, keeping her eyes on him as he left the room.

:::

It wasn’t long after his shift ended that Clark, in his Superman suit began descending into the balcony of his bedroom.

“Clark.” Bruce was sitting in his armchair, expecting the alien to fly in and get closer. Watching the man with predatory eyes. Clark visibly flinched at the mention of his name.

“Hey Bruce,” He came in, lowered himself, and walked until he stood right in front of the other. Superman caught sight of a drop of water pooling on a strand of jet balck hair. He watched as it fell and ran down Bruce’s chest, exposed by the loosely tied bathrobe. The thought of Bruce showering right before him getting here sparked a familiar heat, but Clark forced down the surfacing feeling.

“You know why I called you here.” His voice was tired, low, and Clark could hear the authority behind it, despite his current attire.

“…Yes” He managed, wanting to submit to the human in front of him. It didn’t help Superman being in Bruce’s room, surrounded by his scent, and the openly inviting bed beside them.

“So why have you avoided me?”

He said nothing, his eyes focusing on the carpeted floor beneath him, trying to hone in on the situation. Now was not the time for arousal.

“Clark.”

Superman took a deep sigh “I was afraid, I guess.”

“Of what?” Curiosity flickered in Bruce’s tone. Anger still the dominant emotion.

“Of the thought of our relationship ending because of… what happened.” Clark slowly traced the shape of Bruce’s body with his eyes as they made their way up to the ice blue spheres.

“There was never a relationship in the first place” Bruce let out straightforwardly.

“I felt like we had something” Clark took a step forward, the feeling of dejection seeded with a tinge of hopefulness “And that night proved just how right I was”

“That something is called cheating Clark.” Bruce’s scornful tone made Clark stop walking, confusion entering his thoughts as it took a second to understand where the other man was going.

“Cheating? Bruce what are you…” Clark suddenly came to the realization “Hold on, you can’t possibly be serious.”

“Have you told her yet?” Bruce probed.

“I don’t need to tell Lois anything.” He began advancing again, causing Bruce to stand up from his chair and raising to his full height.

“Clark. She’s your significant other and you—we betrayed her trust.” He released, steadying his stance.

“Bruce no I didn’t because I—”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses, she needs to know—”

“Will you stop interrupting me?!” Clark had made his way to Bruce and placed two strong hands on his shoulders in an effort to make Bruce focus carefully on his next words “I ended my relationship with Lois almost three weeks ago.”

Bruce’s lips were slightly parted, eyes frantically searching Clark’s face. But all he found was absolute truth and the determination to get it across. Clark saw Bruce mentally compute the time of the events as icy eyes flickered between his right and left eyes.

“What?!” Bruce yelled without meaning for it to come out so loud.

“I wouldn’t do that Bruce… How could you believe I would ever—”

“Then why leave?” Bruce pulled himself out of his grip “Why did you avoid me?” Bruce hated how the words came out. He hated the neediness that escaped with his questions.

“Because, that night…” Clark looked down and exhaled, retracting into himself as he pulled his thoughts together. “You didn’t want it. But I still pressed you to sleep with me. I’m so sorry.”

Bruce noticed he had been pacing around the room as soon as he came to a sudden halt and turned to Clark. “I didn’t what what?!”

“You said you couldn’t do it. But you forced yourself, out of pity towards me.” Clark spat out the words, disgusted with himself and his weakness. Both the weakness he showed that night and his inability to face Bruce after.

“You fucking dipshit” Clark visibly flinched at Bruce’s words, compelling him to look up at the man who was now inches away from his face. Bruce pushed Clark, hard, catching him off guard and watching him fall back on his bed with a gasp. Clark inhaled sharply as Bruce pulled down the pants of his suit, exposing his hardened member to the cool air of the room.

“Bruce, w-wait—ah,” The words caught in his throat as a hot tongue raced against the shaft and began working cruelly on the tip.

“Tell me what you want.” Bruce’s voice was stern, allowing no room for dishonesty. It was the voice batman used on his prey once he had cornered them in the darkest of alleys. It made Clark shake as Bruce swallowed him completely, forcing him to find the strength to speak.

“Y-you.” Clark moaned as Bruce moved his tongue lower, past his cock and to the area of soft muscle eagerly waiting for attention. “I want you to destroy me.” He shuddered, Bruce gripping at his thighs and pushing them father apart.

A soft chuckle was all the confirmation he needed. He gripped onto the sheets of the bed, knuckles becoming white as all his doubt melted into pleasure.

Clark fully opened himself to Bruce, giving him complete reign to his indestructible body. He knew it turned Bruce on to no end, to exert his control on him, to be able to serve as his only other weakness besides kryptonite, and to know that he could exterminate his whole being far more swiftly and effectively than a radioactive green stone. But to Bruce, no, to Batman the true persona to the man beneath him, Superman was eager to submit.

:::

Clark felt the welcoming heat of the sunlight touching his skin. He let out a satisfied sigh and pressed his back further into the chest behind him. An arm made its way over him and pulled him even closer, a nose burrowing its way into his hair. Clark smiled to himself, blinking his eyes open to watch the pearl white curtains dancing to the motion of the soft wind coming through the open window. It seemed like the both of them were too busy last night to even notice the open balcony. Good thing Bruce’s mansion was secluded from the rest of society, and the only judgmental look Clark would face would be that of the butler, who would have clearly heard everything. Embarrassment filled his mind, but was eased out of it with the soft, incoherent mumbling of the sleeping man behind him.

“Good morning to you too, Bruce.” Clark laughed in a dazed tone.

“Hmpfh.” Bruce huffed, likely hoping to get more sleep.

“Okay. I know. You’re not a morning person.” Clark said clearly this time and turned in the other’s embrace to face him. He pressed his face into Bruce’s warm chest, and closed his eyes again. “Yeah. I agree. A little more.”

Bruce had drifted off to a deep sleep again and Clark placed a kiss to his scarred skin, happily listening to the strong beating of Bruce’s heart.

:::

“Why don’t you just move in?” Bruce questioned one day at the dinner table as Clark was finishing his meal.

“W-what?” Clark dropped his fork and jerked up to look at Bruce’s straight expression. “I can’t possibly do that…”

“Why not? There’s obviously enough room here, and, you can keep researching on the matrix whenever you please.” Bruce said earnestly, hiding the most important reason in the silence that fell into the room.

“I can’t impose on Alfred like that.” Clark said coming up with any excuse to give him some more time to think. The truth was, he had already figured out everything about the matrix. How to put in his DNA and that of a compatible partner in the device, how to make sure his child could grow strong and healthy, and even how to speak to the growing fetus, and whisper sweet nothings to let the child know it was loved and wanted.

“Please Master Kent, I quite enjoy your presence.” The butler had made his way into the room somehow, unnoticed by Clark who was lost in his own thoughts. Alfred proceeded to filling his glass of water and offered Clark a warm smile. “It’s nice to have someone that actually appreciates me in this house.” He gave Bruce a wayward glance and proceeded to make his way out.

“You heard the man.” Bruce smiled, his voice lowering to a dangerous level. “Go on, give me another excuse.” So I can tear that one apart too. Clark could hear the unspoken phrase, realizing that Bruce wasn’t asking him to move in. That matter was already decided for him.

“Where would I be staying?” Clark probed, the answer deadly obvious.

“Wherever you desire.” Bruce said, his last word stretching with meaning.

“Okay.” Clark played along, finishing his meal and pushing the plate out of the way. “Okay…I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Bruce got up, leaving his plate on the table and walked out of the room. A single glance back at Clark gave the other man all the information he needed.

 

It wasn’t long before the press caught onto their relationship. Bruce hadn’t been seen with a woman in weeks, and Clark Kent seemingly appearing in places far beyond what his salary would allow. Places, the media pointed out, in which he would just so happen to meet with the wealthy Mr. Wayne.

However, just as quickly as their wildfire relationship spread, the press quickly became bored of its stale nature. There was nothing scandalous about it. Bruce was a surprisingly loyal partner to the man, and Clark had sparked the other to smile in ways he had never shown in public before. They were simply two men in love, and no number of homophobic slurs and derogatory articles caused a dent in what they had.

:::

Clark let out a deep sigh as he watched the matrix’s gentle blue light fill the room. Bruce was standing in the doorway, still in his Batman outfit from his night on patrol and surprised to find Clark in the same room he had left him.

“Something bothering you?” Bruce questioned, pulling off the cowl and stepping into the room to meet Clark.

“No, nothing.” Clark said solemnly, tearing his gaze away from the machine and quickly scanning his approaching lover for injuries. “How was patrol?”

Bruce let out a soft laugh. Clark already knew everything. He always kept his hearing focused on the Bat, just in case he found himself in a demanding situation, always ready to swoop in to the rescue despite the other’s protests. “I apprehended three criminals, stopped a robbery, and led a lost child back to his parents.” He leaned forwards and placed a kiss on Clark’s smiling lips. “I would say it was a productive night.”

“That’s good.” Clark whispered, attempting to deepen the kiss before Bruce tore himself away. He gave Bruce a confused look.

“Yes, a pretty good night…” He looked away from Clark and focused on the matrix. “Alfred used to hound me about being more careful. I’ve noticed a drop in the lectures once you moved in.” Bruce removed his glove and placed an exposed hand to the glass. “I guess he was scared I would die before giving him grandchildren.” He heard Clark huff beside him.

“Now he can’t worry about you dying. He knows I wouldn’t allow that.” Bruce could tell the smile of Clark’s face was insincere, making him frown and turn his attention to the man.

“Clark, why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?” Bruce pressed. Intrinsically, he knew what the kryptonian wanted. What Clark Kent had wanted for a long time even before his relationship with Lois Lane. But he wanted to hear it from Clark directly. An honest and straightforward answer. “Tell me what’s on you mind.”

“Really, it’s nothing…” Clark smiled again, a little more forced and placed a light hand on Bruce’s chest.

“Do you want to have a child?” Bruce said finally, tired of playing with Clark’s coyness, his hand still firmly pressed to the matrix. The question caught Clark by surprise, and Bruce noticed the turmoil in his lover’s expression, not sure of the right words to let out.

“I mean, yes, I’ve always… and still do… I just, I don’t know… you know, with us… I just…” Clark was stammering, hesitating. Bruce lifted his free hand to cup Clark’s face, gently silencing him and calming him down.

“I want one too.” Bruce whispered lifting Clark’s chin so their lips could meet. Their kiss the softest it has ever been.

“Yes?” Clark’s eyes lit up. Making Bruce wonder how it was possible his eyes could get any bluer and more radiant than before.

“Yes.” Bruce confirmed, watching Clark’s expression shift to harbor the sincerest smile he could manage.

 

That night, Clark expressed his rawest and purest emotions in the most passionate sex of their relationship. Clark had doubts it would work as he was unsure two male DNAs being integrated into the machine could induce the formation of a zygote, but Bruce encouraged him to try, and gently escorted him to their shared bed. Clark agreed he wouldn’t go to see the results until the following day, promising to sleep and relax himself, should the world need a strong and rested superman.

:::

“Bruce!” The yell was distressing. Bruce woke up with an agonizing feeling in his gut, wondering what could possibly have happened to make Clark scream out in desperation. He searched the house for the man, his heart racing, hammering in his chest.

Then he stopped in front of the familiar room. The door was wide open and Clark was kneeled on the floor, his shoulders shaking. Bruce felt his heart sink to his stomach and he quickly made his was inside, lips pressed into a thin line. “Clark…”

Bruce slowed his pace as he got closer and kneeled down besides the man.

“It worked Bruce.” Clark looked up, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “It worked.”

Bruce looked at him confused, then angry for being so abruptly woken up, then happy when he realized the seriousness to the event to Clark. He stood and focused his eyes onto the matrix, searching desperately for any sign to confirm Clark’s statement.

“There.” Clark pointed at nothing. He noticed Bruce still searching and smiled “It’s that tiny bubble in the center.”

Bruce looked disoriented as he kept searching. Then he noticed something after a solid five minutes. “Are you talking about the tiny little spec of sand?” Bruce was utterly confused, it could have just been a part of the normal matrix fluid for all he knew.

“That’s it.” Clark got closer to the glass with a pathetic grin. “That’s our baby…”

Bruce knew he should be happy, he wanted this after all. He had spent many long nights preparing for Clark to approach him on the matter, ready to turn him down on the spot. But he eventually gave in to his own desire, as careless and as dangerous as the voice in his head scolded him about being.

But now as he stood in front of the machine, with nothing with a speck of dust floating in the cautiously prepared fluid, he couldn’t help but feel a deep guilt forming inside him. Clark was probably confusing anything out of the ordinary with the hope of a child, and he wouldn’t know how to break it to him if nothing were to form after some time.

“You think I’m being irrational.” Clark grimaced, his smile replaced with an angry frown.

“I’m just saying it looks like we accidently contaminated the fluid with something, maybe some dust from the room got in…” Bruce explained

“Bruce.”

“It’s possible…as careful as you were preparing it…”

“Bruce.”

“I mean how can you know so soon?” Bruce soon realized his own questioning was stemming from self-doubt, and nearly face-palmed from the irony of the situation.

“Just remembered?” Clark smirked.

“Microscopic vision. Right.” He let out a crude laugh.

Clark approached him, and stopped until his lips were centimeters from his ear, the following words sarcastically coated in the same contempt Bruce uttered to him months ago “Next time.” He mocked “Don’t question me about what I do and do not know.”

When Clark drew back, Bruce observed as his stupid grin transitioned to a playful laugh. Bruce gave in and allowed Clark’s happiness to infect him as well. Both men crashing into a tight hug and lingering in each one’s loving embrace.

:::

Alfred enjoyed times like these, when both men were off saving the world. There was peace in the house now and no one to dirty the floors he had just cleaned. He made his way meticulously from room to room, making sure no surface went uncleaned, and unable to harbor bacterial growth. The butler made his way eagerly into the room at the end of the hallway.

“Hello Master or Miss Wayne.” Alfred politely greeted the small bean-sized pellet, unsure of what would result of the tiny being. “I hope you are growing well.”

The butler moistened the cloth and began cleaning the room with extra care, not wanting anything to be out of place for the developing child. “I apologize for how utterly distasteful this room is little one.” He said looking at the pale walls. “But I promise we have another much more appropriate room, just for you.” He chuckled to himself “You must understand we don’t wish to expose you to the fumes of the paint.”

Alfred continued cleaning in silence, but the feeling of loneliness never making its way to him.

“Well then little one. I must dispose of these rags. But I will be back to keep you company, just until your parents return. I think today I’ll read you one of Master Bruce’s favorite books. It was the only one capable of calming his temper tantrums, which I assure you, were not easy to deal with” Alfred picked up the remaining cleaning supplies, “I’m sure you’ll be an angel, but if I may add, anything would be angelic in comparison to Master Bruce.” A reminiscent laugh, “Master Bruce will try to spoil you I’m sure, and Master Kent will undoubtedly give him a challenge in doing so. But, they will… no, they already love you tremendously, little one.” Alfred touched the cool glass lightly with a gloved hand and gave the small bean a short bow as he backed away. He made his way out of the room, the smile permanently etched in his face. The butler already helplessly in love with his grandchild.

**Author's Note:**

> And they lived happily ever after the end. 
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read this. I want to hear from you guys, so let me know what you think!


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